events.
I touched the bump on my temple. It was sore. Of course it was—I’d clipped it on the porcelain sink. Ouch. Even the memory hurt.
I leaned back against my pillow, gazing out of the window at the cloudless blue sky. It was nice to see a clear day for a change. I’d spent the past week watching the rain fall, working my way through Mary and Roger’s literature collection, and playing chess with Oscar. Conveniently, Oscar always seemed to show up whenever I was alone. It was strange. I still didn’t exactly trust him, but I hadn’t come any closer to uncovering his agenda. If there was even an agenda to uncover.
Of course, I still had reason to be suspicious. The Valero boys seemed to be magnets for baffling things. One good example was their weightless footsteps. It was virtually impossible to hear them cross the corridor, even with the extremely creaky floorboards hindering their path. In fact, compared to the rest of the occupants of the house, Caicus and Oscar’s footing was beyond light—it was almost illusory.
But the incident that stood out above all was what had happened in Hutton Ridge. Despite the amount of time Oscar and I had spent together, we had never spoken of our encounter that day—mostly because Oscar refused to. Having had over a week to dissect it, I somehow convinced myself that Oscar’s perilous jump was not entirely unfeasible. After all, I’d never jumped off a cliff, so how could I be sure if it was possible or not?
On more than one occasion I had contemplated talking to my aunt about it, but something held me back. It was as though I felt a loyalty towards Oscar that I simply couldn’t betray.
I sighed.
Gazing out at the distant tree tops, I watched the leaves sway gently in the breeze. And then, in front of the window, something else caught my eye. The candle on my dressing table.
Something was different.
I hopped up from my bed and walked over to the table. Carefully I picked up the candle and examined it, trailing my index finger along the smooth wax surface.
Now, that candle had sat in the same spot for the past God-only-knew-how-many years. Subsequently, I could practically picture every detail just from memory alone. Most noticeably, there was a distinctive stripe of ochre trailing from the wick to the base. From my bed I’d always been able to see that marking, and yet that day, somehow, the stripe was facing out to the window.
The candle had been moved.
What ? Why would someone come into my room and move my candle? Mary and Roger never went up there, and baby Zack couldn’t walk, let alone climb two flights of stairs and rearrange my room. I knew I hadn’t moved it. That left two people…
So much for giving the Valeros the benefit of the doubt. They’d been in my room! But why ?
My mind was jumbled. I needed to think clearly.
Okay, retrace my steps , I decided.
After bumping into Oscar post-shower, I’d gone up to my room. When I came back down I passed the bathroom and noticed Oscar’s clothes dumped on the floor. I wasn’t usually one for snooping, but I counted that to be extenuating circumstances. I ducked into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. Before I could stop myself, I was rummaging through his pockets. I wasn’t sure what I expected to find. In fact, I didn’t really expect to find anything.
But that had been wishful thinking.
In actual fact, I found a whole lot more than I bargained for.
There were three objects in total: a small dagger with some kind of marking engraved on the handle; a cluster of sage bound together by a worn piece of string; and a brass coin inscribed with unfamiliar words.
I didn’t imagine it. The memory was too vivid.
I felt sick just thinking about it. Suddenly everything started to feel a little too real. Why would he carry those things around in his pocket? I mean, a dagger, for crying out loud! Obviously, to me, a non-dagger-carrying citizen, that stuff seemed
I touched the bump on my temple. It was sore. Of course it was—I’d clipped it on the porcelain sink. Ouch. Even the memory hurt.
I leaned back against my pillow, gazing out of the window at the cloudless blue sky. It was nice to see a clear day for a change. I’d spent the past week watching the rain fall, working my way through Mary and Roger’s literature collection, and playing chess with Oscar. Conveniently, Oscar always seemed to show up whenever I was alone. It was strange. I still didn’t exactly trust him, but I hadn’t come any closer to uncovering his agenda. If there was even an agenda to uncover.
Of course, I still had reason to be suspicious. The Valero boys seemed to be magnets for baffling things. One good example was their weightless footsteps. It was virtually impossible to hear them cross the corridor, even with the extremely creaky floorboards hindering their path. In fact, compared to the rest of the occupants of the house, Caicus and Oscar’s footing was beyond light—it was almost illusory.
But the incident that stood out above all was what had happened in Hutton Ridge. Despite the amount of time Oscar and I had spent together, we had never spoken of our encounter that day—mostly because Oscar refused to. Having had over a week to dissect it, I somehow convinced myself that Oscar’s perilous jump was not entirely unfeasible. After all, I’d never jumped off a cliff, so how could I be sure if it was possible or not?
On more than one occasion I had contemplated talking to my aunt about it, but something held me back. It was as though I felt a loyalty towards Oscar that I simply couldn’t betray.
I sighed.
Gazing out at the distant tree tops, I watched the leaves sway gently in the breeze. And then, in front of the window, something else caught my eye. The candle on my dressing table.
Something was different.
I hopped up from my bed and walked over to the table. Carefully I picked up the candle and examined it, trailing my index finger along the smooth wax surface.
Now, that candle had sat in the same spot for the past God-only-knew-how-many years. Subsequently, I could practically picture every detail just from memory alone. Most noticeably, there was a distinctive stripe of ochre trailing from the wick to the base. From my bed I’d always been able to see that marking, and yet that day, somehow, the stripe was facing out to the window.
The candle had been moved.
What ? Why would someone come into my room and move my candle? Mary and Roger never went up there, and baby Zack couldn’t walk, let alone climb two flights of stairs and rearrange my room. I knew I hadn’t moved it. That left two people…
So much for giving the Valeros the benefit of the doubt. They’d been in my room! But why ?
My mind was jumbled. I needed to think clearly.
Okay, retrace my steps , I decided.
After bumping into Oscar post-shower, I’d gone up to my room. When I came back down I passed the bathroom and noticed Oscar’s clothes dumped on the floor. I wasn’t usually one for snooping, but I counted that to be extenuating circumstances. I ducked into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. Before I could stop myself, I was rummaging through his pockets. I wasn’t sure what I expected to find. In fact, I didn’t really expect to find anything.
But that had been wishful thinking.
In actual fact, I found a whole lot more than I bargained for.
There were three objects in total: a small dagger with some kind of marking engraved on the handle; a cluster of sage bound together by a worn piece of string; and a brass coin inscribed with unfamiliar words.
I didn’t imagine it. The memory was too vivid.
I felt sick just thinking about it. Suddenly everything started to feel a little too real. Why would he carry those things around in his pocket? I mean, a dagger, for crying out loud! Obviously, to me, a non-dagger-carrying citizen, that stuff seemed
Similar Books
